Witch 2a. Striking to kill

[I recognized her immediately Quintus. It was that savage now badly disguised as a lady. Disguised as a lady? Ah she really needed a lesson from a civilized Roman!]

I advanced in her direction.

She had less blue paint on her face now although her beautifully moon-white skin was of course still adorned with blue tattoos all over.

Her tunic had long ornamental cuts showing glimpses of a muscled and perfectly shaped leg, which confounded me for an instant – you know this weakness I have for long and well-shaped legs (not to mention curves) on the body of a woman.

She appeared concentrated on three strange trees rich with berries of three different colours - white, red, black - one for each tree.

From the bag across her horse’s back I caught sight of more berries plus herbs, mushrooms, roots – all of amazing colours.
"F@%& her suave beauty!" I cursed and gotten off my horse I began to run towards her.

She was quicker. A phosphorescent glare amidst a halo of red hair and away they vanished - the woman and the stallion - into the deep of the wood.

I felt Hælend’s snout behind me so I swiftly turned around, jumped unto horseback and the chase began.

I soon got closer but at the last moment the picta dashed away with her stallion. Got closer again and to my surprise once more they dashed like a shooting star.

I realized that the speed of the race was wildly increasing and at every instant both the picta and I had to avoid the low branches that risked hitting us right on the head.

What sorceries were those? The weird race left me so full of wonder my friend. But right when I was starting to ask myself fanciful questions about the woman she mercurially let me reach her.

“Now I gotcha picta meretrix!” I bellowed. So I took a long thong of leather from my bag with a running noose Wulf had taught me to use in hunting and tossed it in her direction. But with amazing speed - her blue-green eyes flashing, pulling out a gladius similar to mine though slightly longer - she cut off the thong with abrupt force.

So here we engaged into this 'attack and defence' fight with quick blows from both sides since she possessed fencing capabilities different from mine but no less effective.

Talented Hælend had in the meanwhile placed herself very close to the white stallion and had bumped him so violently that the majestic steed had staggered and the picta had almost fallen but rebounding miraculously from the branches she had clung unto she was now landed (an incredible aerial pirouette!) on the horse’s immaculate back.

And there she was, standing ferociously, her lovely sandalled feet perfectly parallel!

Then, gotten dangerously close to us again, her horse not being stupid Quintus (I can well believe it, it was a Roman steed!), she clutched as fast as lightning what was left of the cord in my hand and unhorsed me with utmost violence.

Spirits of the Underworld! How could I ever imagine a woman could be so terribly brutal, fast and agile, all at the same time!

She reminded me of some naked-breasted women in the island of Crete where my father took me as a child. They vaulted elegantly (and fiercely) over bulls' backs thus refreshing a tradition today corrupt though still amazing - a performance carried out to stun travellers (and to collect coins or food from them).

Thus violently drawn to the white & huge stallion's body, my head fell with a thud right between her beautiful legs that smelled of fragrant musk.

Now a slight confusion arose (which softened me towards her, what a moron I am) but didn't blur though my decision to raise the level of Force up to number Five.

Do you remember the relationship between numbers and life which our Magister taught us in Rome with his inspired words? In every normal condition we since then usually place ourselves under the protection of Number Three, the Number of All.

The Tetractys, a mathematical & mystical symbol devised by the the Pythagoreans

But, such levels, here in Britain, while being trained by Wulf and his friends, I have aptly extended to field fight during these long months. I've in fact grown into a better soldier thanks to an innate instinct we true Romans possess, but also I'll admit thanks to Wulf's and his two friends' military drilling.
So, after taking that decision – switching to number 5 Force – I proceeded, and bit her calf with my teeth which made her cry out loud.

So, after taking that decision – of switching to number 5 Force – I proceeded and bit her calf with my teeth which made her cry out loud.

She reacted and threw me in the air with a tremendous kick and if it weren't for sweet Hælend's promptness, Quintus meus, my soul would now be fluttering along the flaming Phlegethon where bad sinners - I am one no doubt - are sent.

In fact I landed in slow motion on Hælend like a sack of German potatoes. The clash with the picta had become almost aquatic, as if a spell from her had been cast on the scene and we were fighting in the crystal waters of a sacred river.

At this point a decision had to be taken.

The woman was indeed a formidable warrior and a dangerous black magic sorceress the Roman custom didn't tolerate. It grieved me having to kill her but I realized I had to do it for the sake of survival: she lived too close to my tower and could attack me at any time of day or night.

I was swallowing - the perfume of her body had slightly cracked the impassible will of the warrior - when the level of confrontation was by me brought to the great power of the Seven Number.

As we school buddies know, Quintus, the notions expressed by the heptad are ALL that is right according to circumstances - there implying fortune, control and what leads things to an end among the rest.

One of the heptad's deities was also Mars, the Roman god of war.

I found my spear on the ground. I took it.

With speed, strength and utmost precision (I know in advance whether a pilum, my favourite weapon, will hit the target or not) I shot the long sharp-pointed lance against the sorceress' abdomen.

The sun was about to set over a marvellous landscape when the iron point began its deadly flight.